The boys were in my dreams again last night. In the dream they have somehow gotten into a pack of markers and had wound up with colourful splotches all over them. In a secondary sub-plot, Willie Nelson was asking to borrow my car to go on tour to pay off his debts to the IRS. This was alright with me in the dream because I was confident the car could hold all his equipment and it's good on gas. Meanwhile, technicolour kittens ran wild all over the house. Clearly, sleep dep is taking a horrendous toll on my sub-conscious. I'm not sure if I should blame too many episodes of The Wire before bed (very addictive) or the book I'm reading
Fragments of the Whole by some lunatic Aussie. Tomorrow is lock-down day for the boys (cleaning lady day) so they had better enjoy their last taste of freedom. But they better not play around with markers. If my dreams turn out to have some remote basis in reality it could be very scary. I would like to talk to Willie Nelson, though. xxx dad
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